


When Everyone Else Screws It Up

by krisherdown



Series: The Outsider In All The French-Loving [3]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-11
Updated: 2009-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when I left off on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/871131">When The Pretty Are No Longer The Desired</a>, I had asked for suggestions as to who was at Richard's door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Everyone Else Screws It Up

**Author's Note:**

>   For gryps_celsus & mimsicality , whose suggestion I went along with.

“This is a surprise, Juan,” Richie says upon seeing Juan Martin Del Potro at his door.  Juan Martin is fidgeting with the sleeves of his light blue sweater, not able to make eye contact.  
  
“Er, yeah, I was told you’d be home and I just wanted to know if you wanted to go…”  
  
While Richie is definitely surprised by Juan Martin’s appearance, at the very least it could be a nice, sweet date.  Maybe he sounds a little eager when he answers, “Sure, why not.”  
  
Juan Martin’s eyes widen.  “Really.  Wow, I thought this would be more difficult.  So, yeah, there’s this Cuban restaurant that got Nalby’s seal of approval.  Is that okay?”  
  
“That sounds good.”  Richie is relieved that Andy found someone who, while may not be what he had in mind, isn’t going to be an embarrassing result either.  He knows Andy is known for aimlessly throwing out suggestions toward the wilder players on the tour.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“I can’t believe I agreed to this, Andy,” Mario complains as the two walk through the hotel lobby.  
  
“Why does it bother you so much?  You’re single, he’s single, isn’t that your usual requirement?”  
  
Mario lets out a loud sigh.  “Do you really think I’m that easy?”  
  
“You _are_ kidding, right?”  
  
“I’m not!”  
  
“How did we hook up again?”  
  
“Fine, I was under medication at that point.  I blame the painkillers.  But if you want to interpret that as ‘easy’, go right ahead.”  Mario shakes his head.  “So you are leading me to Richie because I satisfied you so well that night?”  
  
Andy gives him a deadly glare.  “No.  I thought you seriously wanted this.”  
  
“I said it would be an intriguing ride.  Maybe I’m trying to settle down a little.  Stop the random encounters and maybe find love.”  
  
“I hate you,” Andy mutters, then says in a calmer voice, “That’s the whole point of this meeting.  Richie is looking for that as well.  He feels lonely and left out and just needs someone to show that he’s important.”  
  
Mario groans.  “Why not you?”  
  
“I have someone, thank you very much.  You know what.  Just forget it.  I’m leaving now.  You need to decide what you want to do.  Just don’t stand him up because I held to my part of this arrangement when you agreed.”  
  
* * * * *   
  
Richie lets Juan Martin pick from the menu, specifying not to choose something too spicy.  While Richie's Spanish isn't good enough to determine exactly what Juan Martin ordered, the reassuring smile the Argentine gives to him after the waitress leaves does give hope he's not in for something too treacherous.  
  
Juan Martin explains, "I don't blame you for being cautious.  I ate with the Russians once and it felt like an episode of Fear Factor.  Good way to lose your appetite."  
  
"If Dmitry was involved, that may have been the truth.  He has a strange sense of humor."  
  
Another smile his way, this one more on the shy side.  "Maybe it was a trick," Juan Martin concedes.  "I'm trying not to take things so literally.  Nalby seems to enjoy making me uncomfortable.  Otherwise..."  He stops short, unsure he should let that known yet.  
  
Richie wants to ask for more information but the waitress is back and they focus on the food.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Mario knocks loudly at the door.  When there's no answer, he double checks the room number.  Sure enough, it is correct.  
  
"I bet Andy never even told him it was me.  That would explain why he'd stand me up."  
  
"Mario, what are you doing?"  Mario spins around, to find himself face to face with Marin, who is standing three rooms down, double-checking that the door's locked.  
  
"Is this Richie's room?" pointing in front of him.  
  
"Yes.  But he left with Del Potro."  
  
"What?!  Why the hell would Richie go anywhere with _him_?  I mean, he's not cute at all.  He's this hulk of a guy."  
  
"We're all about the same height," Marin mutters.  
  
But Mario is hearing none of that.  "I repeat.  Not cute."  
  
"Juan is a nice guy, once he breaks out of his shell."  
  
Mario corrected, "Not so nice guy since he stole my date for this evening."  
  
"You and Richie?"  Marin's eyes widen and he's trying not to laugh.  "He _agreed_ to that?  I thought the French team was one big orgy."  
  
"I don't know," Mario said irritably.  "I didn't ask Andy for a word-for-word retread of their conversation.  Then again, maybe this is payback for all the times I've insulted his prowess in bed."  
  
Marin stares at Mario as if he's waiting for the punchline.  When none comes and he realizes that Mario really _would_ know that, he says simply, "You could be right."  
  
"Yeah, that's it.  If Richie had known it was me, he _never_ would have left the hotel room.  He'd be here right now, greeting me with a bottle of wine and wearing just a bathrobe."  
  
Marin deadpans, "It would be an irresistible offer."  
  
"Hey!  It would be!  You have no idea the lengths people go to in order to get a piece of the Ancic."  
  
"You're a legend in your own mind."  
  
"Marin, you have no idea what you've been missing."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
* * * * *  
  
As they finish their meal, Juan Martin asks the question he's wanted an answer for all night.  "What made you agree so quickly?"  
  
Richie had been enjoying goofing around with Juan Martin about sports, friends and family.  It had been easy to forget the original point.  "I agreed to follow whatever Andy suggested.  He thinks I'm too picky."  
  
"Murray?  What does he have to do with anything?"  
  
"Blind date."  At Juan Martin's puzzled expression, Richie asks, "He told you I knew?"  
  
"Richie, I hate to tell you this but I have never discussed personal matters with Andy.  Why would I?  I mean, we're cordial since the misunderstanding on the court but I wouldn't say we're friends."  
  
"Oh."  The desserts are now on the table.  Richie taps the pastry with his fork, figuring the best way to eat it.  "Then how did you know?"  
  
Juan Martin had tried to deny it earlier but there was no point now.  "Nalby got sick of my pining and dragged me to your room.  He said that unless you flat out said you had someone else to keep pushing.  If it had gotten to that point, I don't know..."  
  
"There's a guy at my door thinking Andy tricked him," Richie says incredulously.  "I hope he hasn't been waiting too long."  
  
"Would you rather return to your hotel room and find out?"  
  
Richie says softly, "No."   
  
Juan Martin tries not to show how happy he is about that but the corners of his mouth turn up.  Richie realizes in that moment he's made the right decision.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Mario follows Marin into his hotel room.  Mario doesn't really think Marin is serious in this challenge but he wants to see what happens.  Marin drags his suitcase into the bathroom, the only spot where he can hide from Mario's view.  
  
Mario sits on the bed, waiting.  He admits he's always had a bit of a crush on the younger Croat.  At first, in more of a nice-to-corrupt sort of way.  But when Marin just stopped reacting to Mario's advances, Mario moved on.  Many more fish in the sea.  All varieties.  Mario quite enjoys the selection, even would have enjoyed a certain Frenchman who would have been desperate to cling on to him.  
  
Yes, Marin is on the shy side.  Probably inexperienced.  The clumsiness could be endearing.  Who knows what Marin has in mind.  
  
Mario snaps out of his thoughts by the sound of the door.  Marin has returned, having changed out of his sweats and into, yes, a bathrobe.  No bottle of wine, but Mario knows Marin doesn't drink (not that Marin could buy it in this country even if he did), so his hands are buried in the robe's pockets instead.  
  
Marin says, "I don't know.  You're really not enticing enough to greet like this."  
  
Mario's mouth hangs open, realizing that Marin might not think _Mario_ is worth the greeting but that Mario would _definitely_ reward him if he did.   He gets up from the bed and strides over.  When he is right in front of Marin, Mario says, "You are so wrong," then pushes him against the wall and kisses him.  
  
Marin is standing still, in a state of shock over the change in events.  Which is good because he would have no reason to complain about Mario leading him back to the bed and undoing the knot of the robe.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Richie and Juan Martin are walking along the beach en route to the hotel, ice cream cones in hand.  
  
Juan Martin's focus is on the view of the moon against the clear night sky.  Richie's eyes are on Juan Martin and his wide-eyed innocence not able to hide anything.  The guy who stumbled into a date because of shifty friends.  The guy who still doesn't believe he has a chance unless deception and confusion are involved.  
  
As much as Richie may have protested this if someone else had suggested it, he's actually having fun and finding more to like about Juan Martin.  More importantly, finding that he doesn't have to be thinking so much about how things should be and just enjoy the moment.  
  
Richie doesn't notice he's been caught staring until Juan Martin repeatedly says, "What?  What's wrong?"  
  
"Absolutely nothing," Richie replies then softly brushes his lips on Juan Martin's cheek.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next day, Andy heads to Richie's room when he sees Marin with a bucket of ice.  He waves as a greeting but Marin walks over.  
  
"Hello, Andy," Marin says in a sing-song voice, then, "I would just like to thank you for last night."  
  
Andy is confused by the joyfulness from the normally stoic Cilic.  "Me?  Why?"  
  
Marin unlocks his room then explains, "It was the best night of my life.  Thank you, Andy, for leading Mario to me.  You should be a matchmaker."  Andy peeks in, just long enough to see Mario laying naked on the bed and Marin dropping the ice bucket next to the bed before the door shut.  
  
Andy lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.  "I should have done it myself."


End file.
